The Last Stand
by Prisoner of Azkaban711
Summary: Written for the Quidditch League (Round 8) - Voldmort Wins!AU The Order of the Phoenix prepares for their last stand against Voldemort's increasing forces. Is there any way they can get through this? (Rated T for Sirius' language and character death.)


Author's note: This is written for the Quidditch League Fanfiction Competition Season 4 (Round 8). Okay, so this is largely based off Les Miserables (one of my favourite ever musicals), but it is quite poorly written, as real life has been a bit of a pain for me lately. Anyway, please leave a review because I would love to know how to improve it.

Task: Write how and when Voldemort wins.

Disclaimer: I, unfortunately, do not own Harry Potter.

 _Do you hear the people sing?_

 _Lost in the valley of the night,_

 _It is a music of a people who are climbing to the light,_

 _For the wretched of the earth, there is a flame that never dies,_

 _Even the darkest night will end and the sun will rise._

 _-Epilogue, Les Miserables_

OoOoO

"Well, this is going terrifically well," Sirius said rather loudly, not directing it at anyone in particular, but rather anyone who was actually listening.

"Well, Sirius, if you actually helped rather than stood around complaining, maybe we would have a little more success," Remus replied curtly, levitating a large boulder into place in front of the large, iron gates of the Hogwarts castle.

Sirius huffed slightly at Remus' comment but pulled out his wand to help manoeuvre some broken furniture around the rocks already placed there.

This was it. This was where this fight was either going to be won or lost. And everyone knew it, some perhaps too acutely.

None of the members of the Order now congregated before the castle that they had all called home for so long had anticipated the war taking this particular turn.

Voldemort had gathered his forces together far more quickly than any of them had ever imagined. Dumbledore had predicted that he would still not be strong enough to take on the whole Order of the Phoenix by the end of 1980, and yet here they were in the freezing November air of 1979, preparing to face the massive army of Death Eaters and other creatures that had joined his side.

He had exploited the discontent amongst the Muggle population at that time to move through the country and encourage clans of vampires, werewolves and other shunned creatures to join him, without much attention being paid to him. The Muggles were too distracted by the problems in their own world to notice the darkening in the world that ran parallel to them.

Of course, the Order had tried to stop Voldemort's rise, but they'd discovered more problems than simply convincing various clans to join the side of the light. It seemed that every clan they went to talk to, was reached a few days before by Death Eaters. And this happened time and time again so the Order ended up with barely any support from other communities outside the magical one.

These events were clearly not coincidental, and obviously started everyone thinking about a potential mole; a spy bringing them down from the inside. But it was impossible to know who it was, as information was shared between the whole Order.

But, their inability to find out who was passing information across had had fatal consequences just days before.

Dumbledore had travelled down the country to try to win over a particularly crucial vampire clan in Kent when he had been attacked by two dozen of Voldemort's best Death Eaters. He took down at least ten of them before Bellatrix Lestrange cursed him from behind, killing him instantly.

The news of his death had been spread across the wizarding world so fast that the Order weren't even the first to know. However, it confirmed one thing: that they definitely had a traitor in their midst.

They'd all taken a day to mourn their Headmaster's death, but knew that they had little choice but to make a final stand. They'd definitely anticipated more resistance from ordinary witches and wizards, but after their leader's death, people's will was broken. The Order stood outnumbered, leaderless and alone.

The only thing they could do was set up their final confrontation where they wanted it. On the grounds of their home, Hogwarts and to stand up to You-Know-Who for the rest of the wizarding population, even if nobody else would.

"This won't hold them for very long," Lily said quietly, filling the remaining gaps in their structure with anything she could find.

"I know, Lils," James replied, helping her as much as he could, "but we have to at least try, don't we?"

Lily smiled resignedly at him and took his hand. She was about to say something but was interrupted by Sirius, who was stood on one boulder so he could see over the top of their barricade.

"Oh, shit, guys. We have company!"

Sure enough, marching towards them at an alarming rate, was a sea of black robes. They seemed to walk in sync with one another, sneering and laughing at the Order members as they approached, clearly thinking their attempt at a last stand was something to be jeered at.

The Order watched in horror as the front of the crowd parted to reveal Voldemort himself. His jet black robes brushed the ground as he walked forward, eyeing the scene before him through his red slits.

He wasted no time with an introduction, or even a jibe at his enemy's poor attempt at a defence and instead merely shouted,

"Bella, send him forward." His voice was like ice, blending with the frozen air around him.

"Go on then, Pettigrew," Bellatrix Lestrange drawled, her words echoing through the almost silent courtyard. "Go and tell your _friends_ what their fate is now!"

Bellatrix cackled. James and Remus shared a glance. Pettigrew? As in Peter? The person who had been in their ranks, only a few hours before. Surely he hadn't betrayed them. He would never…

But sure enough, out of the crowd of black-robed individuals, walked Peter. He looked even smaller than normal, against the backdrop of a sea of tall, sneering Death Eaters. But, however small he was, his actions had had massive consequences for the Order. He was their mole, the traitor in their ranks.

James turned away from the small gap they'd left in the defences, unable to look at their former friend, now walking hurriedly towards them. Remus, however, continued to watch, transfixed in a kind of unbelieving horror.

Peter stopped around one-hundred metres from the front their barricade, still looking rather timid and meek between the two groups of people who surrounded him. He seemed to be in a more literal version of the saying 'between a rock and a hard place'.

"There's no point in doing this," he said, raising his voice so those on the other side of the rocky mass could hear him, but it was clearly tinged with fear. "You'll never win against Dark Lord. You are the only ones defying him. Everyone else has accepted it. Stop now and any of you who wish to join us will be pardoned for your treachery. If not, we will kill you."

Remus looked at James again. Peter's voice was his own, but his words had come directly from a script written by someone like Lestrange. The next lines, however, were his own. He lowered his voice slightly so it wouldn't carry as far behind him, his voice full of pleading.

"Please, guys," he started, looking through the small gaps in the structure at faces which now held so much loathing, where there had once been love. "You have no chance here now. Look at how many of them there are. I know there aren't that many of you left in there. Give this up while you can."

"I'm sure you know damn well how many of us there are, you little rodent!" Sirius yelled, unable to contain the hatred that dripped from his words. "I'm sure you told every damn person out there exactly how many of us there are and who we are! Merlin, if I could get my hands on you…"

Sirius lunged forward, launching himself at their defences to try and scrabble over them to get his hands around Peter's throat.

Remus anticipated his movement though and grabbed his arm, while Frank took the other, holding him back.

"Sirius, you know if they see you over the top, they'll kill you on sight. You wouldn't even get near to him," Remus hissed in his ear, hoping to prevent him from making the mistake.

Sirius let out a growl but relented. Unable to move forward, Sirius kicked the rocks making up their defences instead, causing some debris to fall in front of their former friend.

"What's your answer?" Peter asked, trying to gauge whether there would be a fight here today.

The Order didn't answer straight away, instead, they talked amongst themselves.

"I'm not going to stop anyone who wants to leave," James said, looking around at everyone gathered there, "but, if we stay, we're fighting to the last man. But, Merlin, we're on our own. There's no one else and the odds don't look good…"

He ran his hand through his already messy hair and peered once again at the massive force assembled against them.

Sirius was the first to reply, resentment still clear in his voice.

"Well, I sure as hell am not joining them. So if I'm going to die, I'm going to take as many of those bastards down with me," he said strongly, earning a few pointed looks from some of the others. But deep down, they all knew he had a point.

"Let's take as many down as we can," Remus seconded, resigned to his fate.

"We'll make them pay," McGonagall said defiantly, "for Albus."

"There will be others, in time," Lily said with a sad smile, taking James' hand and squeezing it. "You-Know-Who's time won't last forever."

One by one, every other person around them agreed. They'd fight and if they died, others would take their place, eventually.

"Peter!" James shouted, to get the other man's attention, "We will fight. For the good of the world, we will fight this battle!"

Peter sighed. He didn't understand why they all didn't just join the winning side. They were throwing their lives away 'for the good of the world'. When had the world done anything for them?

"So be it," he replied, turning around to rejoin the Dark Lord's ranks. He almost ran, eager to be back in the safety of the crowd.

It was unsure to everyone who fired the first curse that sailed through the air.

Bellatrix had drawn her wand at the same time as James, green and red sparks crashing together in the air between the two sides. It would have been beautiful if it wasn't so deadly.

The Death Eaters advanced, led by Voldemort, whose aim was better than any of the Order members cared to admit.

Sirius and Remus stood to the left side of their barricade, firing simultaneously to try and increase the effect of their spells. James and Lily had seen them adopt this technique and did the same, taking down Dolohov from the advancing group. Minerva was taking down more of the Death Eaters than anyone else. Her duelling seemed to be fuelled by a need to avenge Albus' death.

Soon, though, the number of Voldemort's followers simply overwhelmed them. They began climbing the structure the Order had built, firing curses more effectively without the rocks and wood in the way.

The whole world seemed to slow down, green sparks flying through the air at half speed, bodies falling gracefully through the air, almost floating rather than falling.

Voldemort stood directly in front of the rocky barricade, muttering a spell that could end this once and for all. He held his wand tightly in his fingers, imagining all of his power flowing through it, before exuding a most powerful burst of magic, which sent the pieces of broken rock and furniture flying backwards into the members of the Order still heroically trying to continue.

Everyone stopped. Bodies lay sprawled out on the ground everywhere, some clothed in black, but mostly not. Red hair flowed out across the path, in front of where the Dark Lord stepped as he made his way forward towards the castle entrance. The elegant, pureblood facial features of a Black were tainted with blood on his left. The sleek black hair of his former teacher was still in a bun as she lay, fallen on his right.

He made his way to the castle doors and stood on the first step up, his bare feet touching the chilled stone.

Finally. All of them. Dead.

He had won.


End file.
